When an old miller died, he left his three sons everything he had. The oldest son got the mill. The middle son got the donkey. And the youngest son got... a cat.

The youngest son was not happy. "My brothers can use the mill and the donkey to make a living," he said sadly. "But what am I supposed to do with a cat? I can't eat him. I can't sell him. I suppose I will starve."

The cat — who had been listening carefully — jumped onto the table and spoke.

"Master, do not be so quick to lose hope. I may not look like much, but I am not an ordinary cat. Give me a pair of boots and a sack, and I promise you — I will make your fortune."

The young man had nothing to lose. He used his last coins to buy the cat a fine pair of leather boots and a large sack. The cat pulled on the boots, slung the sack over his shoulder, and admired himself in a puddle.

"Very handsome," said the cat, turning this way and that. "Now, master, stay here and trust me. Everything is going to be fine."

The cat went into the forest. He put some lettuce and grain in his sack, left the sack open on the ground, and hid behind a bush. Before long, a fat rabbit hopped into the sack to eat the grain. The cat pulled the strings shut — SNAP! — and caught the rabbit.

But the cat did not bring the rabbit to his master. Instead, he walked straight to the king's palace. He marched through the gates, bowed deeply to the guards, and asked to see the king.

"Your Majesty," said the cat, bowing low, "I bring you a gift from my master, the Marquis of Carabas." He presented the rabbit on a silver tray.

The king was impressed. "The Marquis of Carabas? How generous! Please thank your master for me."

Of course, there was no Marquis of Carabas. The cat had invented the name completely. But the king did not know that. And the cat's plan was only just beginning.